


Letters Home

by shadeshifter



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 06:30:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadeshifter/pseuds/shadeshifter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While they’re stranded on the uninhabited planet, not sure if Shepard is alive back on Earth or not, Liara gives Kaidan a series of vids that Shepard never sent to Kaidan. In the course of watching them, Kaidan realises a few things about that year Shepard was with Cerberus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by (though not entirely based on) the Mass Effect kinkmeme prompt here: http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/6609.html?thread=29371601#t29371601
> 
> First attempt at writing in a game universe, so let's hope this goes well.

There’s a chime at the door and Kaidan calls for whoever is there to enter, without looking up from the datapad he’s reviewing on the state of repairs of the Normandy.

“Major,” Liara says softly, but there’s a gravitas to her voice that makes Kaidan look up immediately. “I was combing through the information Shepard picked up from the Illusive Man’s base and I found something.”

She hesitates, something so uncharacteristic of her these days that Kaidan looks up from where he sits on Shepard’s couch. Their couch. The couch. He tries not to add pronouns to things these days; articles are so much easier to deal with.

“Considering the state of things, I thought...” she trails off, uncharacteristically again. Kaidan rises to feet and goes to her, guiding her to take a seat.

“Liara, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she says, but there’s the slightest shimmer to her eyes before she draws herself up and looks directly at him. “I found a series of vids in the Cerberus database, something the Illusive Man was no doubt adding to dossier somewhere,” she says with a sneer, before the expression fades to sadness again. “They’re from Shepard. To you.”

Kaidan can’t speak, can’t move, can’t think for a moment, before it feels like his heart restarts with a painful wrench and then it’s all too much.

“He never sent them, for whatever reason, but he never deleted them either,” Liara continues, her hand coming to rest gently on his arm. Kaidan wants to pull away, wants to find somewhere dark to hide for a while, but her hand is the only thing that grounds him. “I only looked at the beginning of the first entry, before I realised what it was I was looking at.” Kaidan doesn’t know if he believes her, doesn’t know much of anything about her these days. 

“They’re yours,” she tells him, handing him a datapad. Then she’s gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Kaidan holds the pad in trembling hands. The entries glare starkly white against the grey-blue background, unread. He’s not sure if he can do this, can listen to Shepard, see Shepard, when he’s living in the space they shared and he doesn’t know if Shepard’s alive or... He brings up the first entry, because it’s set almost two years after the destruction of the Normandy, the real one, and it can’t possibly be a goodbye. Shepard’s face fills the screen, haggard and broken by glowing scars. 

“Kaidan,” Shepard says as he glances at the camera and then looks away. He smiles in that wry, self-deprecating way that makes Kaidan’s inside twist like they’ve just coasted the top of a small mountain in the Mako and the other side is a sheer drop. 

“I’ve started this half a dozen times already and erased it almost as many,” Shepard continues with a shake of his head. “They tell me I died. I suppose that’s as good a place as any to start.”

Kaidan’s breath catches and he’s not sure he can do this. Not when he’s stuck in an uninhabited system, more light years away from Earth than bears mentioning, and Shepard might be even further away than that. 

“They tell me I died,” Shepard says, ignorant of Kaidan’s struggle. “But I don’t remember any of it. I was on the Normandy only yesterday. We were all going to watch the latest Blasto movie next shore leave.” Shepard trails off then, eyes going unfocused as he looks into the distance. “I guess it’s fairly old now. There must have been a few more since.”

Kaidan’s fingers clench on the edges of the datapad as grief washes across Shepard’s face. He remembers his own grief as a sharp, biting wound that never quite healed. When he’d seen Shepard on Horizon, it had only been masked by anger.

“Then we were attacked and I woke up to battle and blood. Situational normal, I suppose.” Shepard gives a dry rasp that might be a chuckle if it didn’t sound so very raw and painful. “Well, not entirely. It’s been two years and I don’t even know where to send this. I don’t even know if you’re alive, if any of you are. Jacob said you were still with the Alliance, so I hope...”

Shepard shakes his head again and grits his jaw in the way that’s so familiar to Kaidan. The way that means he’s tamping down on everything else just so he can make it through the mission. The first time Kaidan saw it was on Eden Prime, over Jenkin’s body, and he barely knew what he was seeing then. He’s since had plenty of opportunity to memorise the stubborn line of that jaw and the determined glint of those blue eyes.

“I’m on a Cerberus shuttle leaving one Cerberus base and headed to another, so I can meet the guy in charge. I don’t know what’s going on or what they want me for, but there’s no way I’m sticking around any longer than necessary. Even if I have to steal a ship to do it. It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

Shepard’s smile is barely there, but his expression is warm and soft. It’s the way he looks at Kaidan now and must have been all along, only Kaidan was too busy trying to hide his own feelings to recognise Shepard’s. The vid shuts off and Kaidan is left staring at the list again. He automatically starts the next one from a few days later.


	3. Chapter 3

“Kaidan,” Shepard says, like it’s a plea or a prayer. “I know what we’re up against now. I suppose that’s the best thing I can say about the last few days.” Shepard wipes a hand across his face and sighs. “The Collectors are taking entire human colonies and no one but Cerberus seems to be doing anything about it. I wish you were here with me. I know you’d always follow your conscience and do the right thing. I don’t know if I can trust mine at the moment.”

“I saw Tali,” Shepard tells him, shifting gears entirely. “She was on Freedom’s Progress. There was a Quarian there, Veetor, who managed to escape the Collectors.” 

As always, Kaidan never knows what to think when someone brings up Tali and Garrus and the way they had stuck with Shepard during that year with Cerberus when Kaidan had turned his back on him.

“She doesn’t agree with Cerberus, but she believes in me, and I hope that counts for something. I hope I’m worthy of that trust.” Shepard’s expression is so conflicted that part of Kaidan wishes he could reach back in time and tell him, as he had at the Illusive Man’s base, that Shepard is real and not simply a copy, not a clone or an AI. But there is still a part of him – one that, if he was less honest with himself, he would deny – that is glad that Shepard is troubled by working with Cerberus. A part that feels vindicated. Shame curls in his gut and settles there.

“At least I know she’s alright. And Joker and Chakwas are on the Normandy with me. The others have all moved on in their own ways, but I haven’t managed to find out anything about you or Garrus. I’ve missed so much. I know I can’t have expected the galaxy to stop just because I did, but I don’t know if there’s a place in it for me anymore.”

Shepard looks back at the camera and forces a smile that looks more like a grimace. His eyes duck away from the camera quickly before looking back up.

“I’m hoping when I meet with Anderson that I’ll be able to get some indication of where you are. That he’ll be able to help me with this mess.

“Kaidan, I...”

Shepard trails off again, averting his eyes. 

“I have no right to expect anything from you, but I don’t know how to do this with people I can’t trust. Hell, even my ship reports on me. I don’t know how to do this without you, without the whole team.” Kaidan smiles a little wanly at the quick correction Shepard makes. While he appreciates the indication of Shepard’s regard, even then, it pains him just how much he’s let the other man down. “You gave me your support against Sovereign even when the odds were stacked against us. That means a lot to me. It means everything, now.” 

Shepard’s face fades again and Kaidan hates the feeling of inevitability that descends on him. Hates the part he will play in what is to come for this Shepard-echo. Would things have been different if he’d acted differently? Kaidan moves on to the next message before he can sink into the malaise those thoughts would bring. Shepard’s weary expression fills the screen.


	4. Chapter 4

“I saw the Council today. They’ve reinstated me as a Spectre,” Shepard says, but there’s nothing happy about how he says it. “It’s something, I suppose. I won’t have any resources, but I’ll have their tacit approval as long as I keep my operations to the Terminus systems.

“They don’t believe the Reapers are behind the Collectors. It’s Eden Prime all over again,” Shepard says and his shoulders droop just a little bit more. He rubs at his eyes and when he looks back up, Kaidan can’t help but think he looks tired, defeated. Shepard hadn’t had two years to recover from the toll fighting Saren and Sovereign had taken, from the losses they’d suffered, the decisions he’d made and hadn’t made. “Why can’t they just face the truth? Listen to reason? Why is it always an uphill battle?” 

Kaidan winces because he’d done exactly the same as the Council. As glad as he’d been that Shepard was back, he hadn’t wanted to listen to what he’d had to say either. When Shepard had come to see him at the hospital, Kaidan had wanted to put it all behind him, had regretted how harsh he’d been, maybe at how quickly he’d judged Shepard, but he hadn’t really felt like he’d been wrong about the situation.

“I tried to ask Anderson about you, but he says your mission is classified. At least I have it from a reliable source that you’re alive.”

Shepard had tried to tell him, that he’d been out of commission, and Kaidan could have handled that, but it had been months between when reports of Shepard’s re-appearance had started and when they met again on Horizon. Kaidan didn’t realised just how hard Shepard had tried to track him down. Of course, he wouldn’t have access to Alliance or Spectre resources, not if they were only barely acknowledging his existence. 

“And I hear you’re a Staff Commander now. Congratulations.”

He says it with that same warm smile that he’d had on Earth, before his hearing, and Kaidan can’t help but remember his own cool dismissal of the man. There’s so much he has to make up for. 

“If you keep this up, you’ll outrank me next time we meet.” Almost immediately, Shepard’s expression shifts to pensive. “Though I suppose that’s no longer a concern.” Shepard rubs at his chest, just over the Cerberus symbol on his top.

“Just try to stay safe out there, Kaidan. You don’t have us at your back anymore.”

Shepard hadn’t had them at his back either. Except for Garrus and a crew supplied by Cerberus, even if he now knows they are good, honest people. Shepard’s image fades again.


	5. Chapter 5

Kaidan hesitates when he sees the date of the next entry. It’s the day before they met again on Horizon. He’s not sure he can listen to Shepard say his name with such hope and faith, listen to Shepard wish him only the best when all he’d had in his heart for Shepard then was bitterness and disgust. He starts it anyway. He owes this, at the very least, to Shepard. When Shepard’s face fills the screen he looks stronger, more hopeful, and it’s another stab to Kaidan’s heart to know that he’ll wipe that expression away. 

“Kaidan,” Shepard says with the slightest smile, and there’s an inflection there that sends a shiver down Kaidan’s spine and warms him with its affection. Hindsight is so much clearer. “We might actually be able to get ahead of this thing. The Illusive Man thinks the Collectors will be heading to Horizon next.” A shadow passes across Shepard’s face at the mention of the Illusive Man, before it’s smoothed away. 

“Mordin has created a vaccine against the seeker swarms. We’re not sure how effective it’ll be, but I trust Mordin to know his science.

“It feels good, to actually be able to do something to help people again, rather than stumbling from place to place, mission to mission, just trying to get one small piece of the puzzle. It makes it easier to deal with everything else. Or at least to try and forget about it for a while.”

Shepard’s expression grows troubled again and he sighs. 

“It’s easy to forget when the decisions are simple, when the solution is obvious. It’s when it’s complicated, when it won’t work out no matter what I do, that I can’t help but wonder...

“It shouldn’t matter. Whatever I am, whatever they did, there’s nothing I can do about it, and it shouldn’t matter, but somehow it makes all there difference.”

Shepard has always been in control. Of himself, if not his situation, and to have to face having no control over himself, not even his own thoughts, must have been daunting. 

“I keep thinking of Saren,” Shepard says, “and how he couldn’t believe he was indoctrinated and I can’t help but wonder... I’ve had so many things and people rummaging through my mind, how would I even know? How would I even know if something else, just one more in a long line, had had a go?”

Shepard visibly shivers and folds his arms tightly across his chest. Kaidan knows there are a few more things he can add to the list now. Shepard had said he was fine after Leviathan, even though he was pale and cold and bleeding, and Kaidan had tried to be supportive, had tried to do what he could, but he’d been focused on the wrong thing entirely.

“I don’t know what to trust anymore. It’d just be really nice to have something solid and stable to rely on, you know?” Shepard shakes his head then gives that wry smile again. 

“I suppose duty will just have to do. You can take the Marine out the Navy...” he says with a shrug. “Kaidan,” he sighs, “look after yourself. The galaxy’s a dangerous place these days.” Shepard sighs again and the camera shuts off.

It’s months before the next entry and Kaidan knows that’s his fault. He thinks about his own unsent letter after Horizon and wishes now that he had sent it, had tried to reach out to Shepard as Shepard had been desperately reaching for him. He’d failed Shepard so badly; torn him down when he’d already reduced himself to a flimsy scaffolding of doubt and dread. Because no one is, or could ever be, harder on Shepard than he is himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t sure if Kaidan sent a non-romanced Shepard a letter after Horizon, but a brief bit of research seems to suggest he didn’t. So, I’m going with that. If it’s wrong, let me know and I’ll have another go at it.


	6. Chapter 6

Kaidan opens the next entry eagerly, because whatever happened on Horizon, whatever hurt Kaidan had caused, it hadn’t been enough to destroy his chances with Shepard. He knows that, knows it with an abundance of evidence in looks, fleeting touches and an intimacy he misses like a next breath that won’t come. Shepard’s expression is determined and it’s everything Kaidan loves about him, but there’s still a shadow lingering behind his eyes.

“I’ve set this to send only if I don’t make it back from the Omega 4 relay. So, if you get this I’m dead... or worse. I’m sorry. There’s so much I’ve wanted to try to explain, but I could never get the words just right.” Shepard shakes his head and his gaze drops. 

“It’s impossible to convince someone else when I’m not sure I can convince myself,” he says softly and Kaidan’s heart breaks. Whatever doubts Kaidan had had, they’re nothing on Shepard’s, who can’t escape himself, can’t run away and be angry about the situation or pretend it doesn’t exist. Shepard is stuck with them relentlessly clawing at the back of his mind.

“I’ve got a good team. Skilled and reliable. I think we’ve got a chance of making it, but... just in case we don’t. I don’t want to leave things the way we did, not if this is it. You’ll find a way to blame yourself, I know you will. I know you.”

Kaidan knows he would have if the worst had happened, would have regretted even more than he does now. He wishes Shepard had sent this, wishes he’d done things differently, been different. Mostly, he wishes he’d trusted that he knows Shepard as well as Shepard knows him. But he can’t change anything now.

“Sometimes, I wish you were with me, at my side like it used to be. You’ve never steered me wrong before and as good as my team is... We’ve got a chance, but I don’t know if it’s much of one. I don’t know much of anything these days,” Shepard says, fingers absently tracing his cheeks where his scars used to glimmer, “but I know I can’t just leave my crew to the Collectors.

“In a way, I’m glad you’re not with me now. I know whatever it is you’re out there doing is probably dangerous anyway.” Shepard smiles, and it’s the energized, confident smile he always got just before heading into the fray. Kaidan can’t help but smile in return, even though this is only an echo and Shepard won’t see. “But I still feel better knowing I’m not leading you into what will probably be a suicide mission.

“Because there’s something I have to tell you. Something I need you to know if this is going to be it.” Shepard’s expression turns serious and he looks straight at the camera. To Kaidan it feels like Shepard looks straight at him, through the months and the decisions that separate them. 

“If...” Shepard trails off and glances away, jaw gritting before he looks back up. “If you still respect me, still care about me at all, then I hope this doesn’t make things worse for you, but it’s the only thing that makes me relatively sure I’m still me and not another Cerberus abomination.

“I love you, Kaidan. I think I always have.”

Shepard’s face fades from the screen and Kaidan feels the wetness of his cheeks a moment before he realises he’s crying. Because he’d taken every opportunity to cut to the quick of Shepard’s every fear and uncertainty then, but Mars had been something else entirely. He remembers the husk-like thing, remembers his own fear and Shepard’s swift, not entirely convincing denial, but knowing this... He’d taken the one solid thing Shepard had been holding onto and warped it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure how many colonists went missing because of the Collectors, but I vaguely recall something like tens of thousands, so I’m running with that figure.

Kaidan forces himself to look at the last entry, not sure what could come after that. It’s not taken from Cerberus’ database, but from an Alliance one. He doesn’t even care where Liara managed to get that one from. He starts it.

Shepard’s face appears, looking a little gaunt and definitely haunted, and there’s a rather drab, featureless room behind him. Kaidan recognises it as standard Alliance fare. His breath catches as he realises when this is. 

“I killed 300 000 Batarians, or I failed to save them. I don’t know which is worse. There’s a part of me that wonders if I let it happen because of Mindoir. I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I don’t know. I hope I don’t have that in me, but the things I’ve seen... Kaidan, the things I’ve done,” Shepard says, despair leaching all the vibrancy from his voice. 

“There’s a war coming,” Shepard continues, face in shadow as he looks away from the camera. “I know it, even if the brass doesn’t. I guess all I can hope for now is that they give me the chance to mitigate some of the damage, if that’s possible.”

Shepard goes silent for several long moments and Kaidan strokes a thumb across his face in the image, knowing it changes nothing, but wishing he could have done something more. He remembers the way Shepard had said his name with such joy before the hearing and hates himself a little bit more.

“I killed more beings than the Collectors did for that grotesque monstrosity.”

Kaidan remembers seeing the recovered heart of it and shudders. The stubborn line of Shepard’s jaw trembles just a little and the blue eyes are bright, not with passion and determination, but with unshed tears. Shepard looks broken, completely unmade, and as much as Kaidan wishes it was different, it hadn’t been him who’d carefully put all the pieces back together again. That had been Anderson and Vega. 

“I could really use one of those post-mission debriefings we used to have. You have a way of putting things in perspective and I could really use some about now. Kaidan...” Shepard stops and shakes his head. He runs a hand over his head and then rubs the back of his neck.

“Who am I kidding; I’m never going to send this. And if I did, I don’t know if you’d read it. It seems like I can’t help but destroy the things I touch. You’re lucky you got out when you did.”

Kaidan closes his eyes and presses his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. It explains why Shepard had been willing to let Kaidan take the lead in their relationship. He’d never pushed, never asked for more than Kaidan could give, never asked for much of anything, really. Between this and the fear that Kaidan could discover, or uncover, something about Shepard that he didn’t approve of and shut him out again, Shepard probably hadn’t been too willing to cause a fuss, not when there were so many other, bigger, more critical things to worry about and time was so short.

“I wish I could blame this on Cerberus, on something they did, but this is all mine,” Shepard says, and the weight of it slopes his shoulders and bows his head. It’s another layer to add to his reaction on Mars. Shepard had struggled and worked through his responsibility for what happened in the Bahak system and Kaidan’s accusation had been a negation of that. Shepard doesn’t say anything else, just breathes a ragged sigh and shuts off the camera.

Shepard hadn’t let himself take comfort from Kaidan, apart from that morning just before they’d taken on the Illusive Man’s base and how many horrific things has he gone through? More than Kaidan can count offhand, at any rate. How much of that was Shepard being stoic as always and how much was it not being able to trust that Kaidan would stick around? Because Kaidan knows he’s not going anywhere, and he’s tried to make sure Shepard knows that too, but he’s not sure how much of the past lies between them, creating a gulf he can’t cross.


	8. Epilogue

It’s weeks before they re-establish communication with the Sol system and find out Shepard’s alive. Kaidan realises he’s been thinking that way for a while now, unable to imagine a universe in which he doesn’t get to fix things with Shepard. Not after those letters. Not ever.

It’s months longer before Hackett informs them that they’ve found a way to repair the relays and even longer before Hackett lets him know that Shepard’s woken up. He’s still too injured and muddled from the medication he’s on to bring to the QEC, but that’s alright, because he’s alive and his condition is improving. Kaidan’s had Chakwas conferring with the doctors on Earth to confirm that.

So, Kaidan makes his own vid to send through. He knows that more people than he’s entirely comfortable with will see it before it reaches Shepard, but he’s okay with that, as long as it does reach Shepard. Hell, the media will probably have a field day if they get their hands on it, since Shepard is the saviour of the galaxy. Kaidan’s strangely okay with that, too.

“Shepard,” Kaidan begins. “John,” and the name comes out rougher than he intends, frayed as it is by his emotions. “There’s so much I want to tell you. So much I wasn’t there for. I know we agreed to bury it, to put it all behind us, but I don’t want to.” 

Had Shepard suggested that because it was how he really felt or simply because the one thing the last few years have drummed into him is that what Shepard suffers doesn’t matter as long as he gets results. And Shepard has always been willing to make stupid sacrifices to make sure those he calls crew, friends, family, are happy. He’d taken on a thresher maw with nothing but a handful of guns and limited ammo, and slipped into a Geth mainframe without any regard for his safety or sanity. Regret is a well-familiar shroud Kaidan cloaks himself in these days. 

“You deserve better than that, you always have, and I want to earn the trust and respect you freely gave me. I love you, whatever you’ve done and whatever was done to you. Because of it, even, because it made you who you are and that’s everything to me.”

Kaidan wishes he could be there in person to say these things. To touch Shepard and reassure himself that’s he alive and real, and to make sure Shepard believes him, but he’s not willing to wait the months it will still take to fix the relay. He’s not willing to let Shepard doubt himself or Kaidan for a moment longer.

“You’re everything to me,” Kaidan says, more softly, “and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you believe that, if you’ll let me.

“I’ve been so wrong about everything, John, everything but you. It’ll take a while, I’m not sure how long, but I’m coming home to you. I’ll always come home to you.”


End file.
